


Love Bug Express (Mail Delivery Service) - Part Two

by ladydragon76



Series: Love Bug [2]
Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One), Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: M/M, Rating: PG-13, character: blaster, character: bob, character: cyclonus, character: getaway, character: skids, character: tailgate, genre: fluff, genre: humor, verse: idw, warning: au, warning: canon- what canon?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-10
Updated: 2015-02-10
Packaged: 2018-03-11 14:07:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,892
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3329126
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ladydragon76/pseuds/ladydragon76
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><b>Summary:</b> Thank you for choosing Love Bug Express for your delivery needs.  Our Delivery Specialist is the best bug in the business.  No one offers a better price, attention to detail, or is as dedicated to customer care as the Love Bug.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Love Bug Express (Mail Delivery Service) - Part Two

**Author's Note:**

  * For [thoughtsdemise](https://archiveofourown.org/users/thoughtsdemise/gifts).



> **‘Verse:** IDW  
>  **Series:** Love Bug  
>  **Rating:** PG-13  
>  **Characters:** Bob, Crew of the Lost Light  
>  **Warnings:** Sugar Shock and Fluff?  
>  **Notes:** This series commissioned by ThoughtsDemise, and too fun to write! Thank you, darling! I hope you like it!

After enjoying a good scritching from Ratchet, Bob cruised along the halls looking for Skids. When he spotted the mech, he chirped and chittered, and hurried to catch up.

“Bob?” Skids smiled as he squatted down and reached out to pat Bob’s head. “Did you lose Sunstreaker? Oh, what’s this?” Bob purred, wiggling a little in place as he handed Skids the chip. He was a good boy! He got both chips to both of the mechs he was supposed to deliver them to. Treat and snuggles time, then he would get back to Sunstreaker.

“Oh! Oh, I get it.” Skids chuckled and rubbed Bob’s helm a bit more, much to the insecticon’s delight. “Someone’s gotten you to play delivery bug.” Skids bit his lip, staring off to the side for a moment, his petting of Bob slowing to an absent-minded pat before stilling completely. After a moment more he reached into his subspace, and then held out a different info chip to Bob. “Will you take this to Getaway for me? Getaway. Know who he is?”

Bob bounced in place, secondary hands gently taking the chip. He knew, and maybe Getaway was back at his den with Sunstreaker still. That would make it easy.

“Guess I should read this one,” Skids said with a nervous edge to his voice.

Bob watched him plug the chip into a datapad, then moved off. Maybe Getaway would have treats for him? Skids gave nice pets, but he didn’t have goodies in Bob’s experience. He was entering the lift to go down, when Skids shouted his name and started running toward him.

“No! Bob! Bob, wait! I can’t send-”

But the door shut, and Bob was just startled enough to forget which button he’d been told was the one to keep the doors open. He felt really bad though, and huddled on the floor with his legs all tucked in under his belly. Skids had looked upset, and Bob didn’t like seeing swarm members upset. He would be a good boy and go give Getaway the chip. That would make Skids happy again.

~

Bob huffed, and plopped his aft to the floor. He still had the chip, but he couldn’t find Getaway anywhere, and he had no idea where else to look. The last scent trail he’d found had gone cold, and he had been out for a really long time already.

“Bob. Here, Bob.”

The insecticon twisted to look back, and chirped in recognition. He liked Tailgate. Tailgate had-

“Want a treat, buddy?” Tailgate asked, giggling as Bob jumped up and bounced the few steps to the little mech. “Here ya go.” A small gelled goodie was offered, and Bob took it with his empty hand, remembering this time to hold on to the info chip. He nommed the goodie, optics dimming in pleasure as Tailgate rubbed the base of his antennae just right. “What’s that you have there?”

Bob blinked, then glanced at his hand and where Tailgate was pointing. Oh. The chip. He carefully showed it to the mech, but when the he reached for it, Bob clutched it in tight to his chest. Nope. Not for Tailgate, this one was going to Getaway. If Bob could find him.

Thankfully, the little mech didn’t try to take it, so Bob relaxed again. He wouldn’t ever want to be aggressive with him, but he had to protect the chip.

Tailgate scritched at Bob’s helm and asked, “Are you helping with the secret admirer gifts? That’s a good boy. I bet everyone’s really glad for the help.” The insecticon leaned into the attention with a happy purr. “Would you want to make a delivery for me?”

Would he? For the mech that _always_ called him a good boy and gave him treats? Bob held out his empty hand for whatever Tailgate wanted delivered and chirped.

Giggling again, Tailgate produced an info chip of his own and handed it to Bob. “That’s for Cyclonus, ok? It’s really special, so make sure he gets it.” Another treat was held out, this time right toward Bob’s mouth so he could take it without using his hands. Tailgate was such a nice member of the swarm. Cyclonus though… Tall and purple and pointy. He was a bit intimidating, but if Tailgate wanted it done, Bob would do it.

With a final chirr, Bob pushed his helm against Tailgate’s hand affectionately, then bounded off to renew his search for Getaway and find Cyclonus.

~ | ~

“Uh? Hey, Tailgate?” Blaster sat down at the table in Swerve’s across from the minibot. He chewed his lower lip, not sure how to start. “I really appreciate it and all, but… uh… Listen, mech, I-”

“What’s wrong?” Tailgate asked, curly straw clinking back into his glass of energon.

Blaster sighed, and then just showed the mech the info chip. “I’m flattered and all, but-”

“I’m confused. Is that for me?” Tailgate poked a finger at the chip, visor bright and curious, and Blaster cycled his vents again.

“It’s _from_ you. Your singin’.”

“The one I made for Cyclonus?” Tailgate plucked the chip from Blaster’s fingers and brought it in close to inspect.

“Cyclonus! Oh!” Blaster chuckled, relieved and damn happy he’d stumbled over his words instead of rolling through the whole gentle let-down he’d practiced. “Ok. Hah. Yeah, alright. Bob must’ve jumbled them up. He had like five in those tiny little hands of his when he found me. I bet Cyclonus’ll love it.”

Tailgate snickered as he tucked the chip away. “I’ll give it to him myself, I guess. Thanks for bringing it back to me.”

“Yeah,” Blaster said with a smile as he stood. “No problem. Have fun.” He waved, and hurried out of the bar. Thank fragging Primus! Tailgate was cute and all, but not Blaster’s type, and that was _so_ not his music style.

Wow.

~ | ~

Bob couldn’t figure out why Swerve kept snickering that weird way he did sometimes as he repeated ‘Red Alert’ over and over. Bob got it. That info chip was for Red Alert. He knew the mech and knew where to find him. Usually. First, however, he couldn’t find Cyclonus anywhere, and just ahead was Tailgate. He wasn’t going to earn any treats, but he just didn’t know where else to look. He kept dropping the chips too.

“Hey, Bob,” Tailgate greeted, then squealed as the info chip was handed to him. Bob was offered a treat, and took it with his mouth. “One for me?” A datapad was quickly pulled from his subspace and the chip inserted.

While Bob chewed up the goodie, he eyed the remaining chips in his hands. Red Alert. Getaway. Who else again? Oh well, he’d remember when he saw the mechs.

“I love watching you sleep,” Tailgate said, and then squealed sharply enough to make Bob’s antennae flatten back and his belly drop to the floor. “Thanks, Bob!” he shouted over his shoulder, already running off as fast as he could.

Bob snorted and gave his head a shake, audials still ringing a little. Ow. Where was he going next? Oh yeah. Getaway.

~ | ~

“Cyclonus!” Tailgate shouted as he entered their shared quarters. He spotted the mech reading on his berth and pelted across the room to throw himself on that perfect purple plating, giggling the whole way.

“What are you doing?” Cyclonus asked and lifted Tailgate off to the side so he could sit up.

“I got your message.” Tailgate showed him the info chip, but before Cyclonus could take it, he shoved his own with the love songs on it into the large, clawed hand. “I made this for you.”

Cyclonus took the info chip and plugged it in. He listened for a few minutes, then shut the song off to give Tailgate a nod. “Your pronunciation is improving, however, I never sent you a message.”

“Yes you did.” Tailgate held out the chip. “Who else would watch me sleep?” The chip was plugged in, and he leaned over Cyclonus’ arm to point at the message. “See?”

Cyclonus shook his helm. “I didn’t send this to you.”

Tailgate wilted and felt his face heat in embarrassment. “Oh.”

A warm hand engulfed Tailgate’s shoulder. “I had intended to participate, but like you, I thought song would be more appropriate. I planned to serenade you later, but now will do just as well.” He tucked the message away. “We shall attempt to find the proper recipient tomorrow.” Then, with a slight smile, precious for as rare as they were, Cyclonus replayed Tailgate’s song and began to sing along with it.

~ | ~

Skids whipped around a corner, and then slid to a stop when he saw Getaway down the hall. His old friend -who he couldn’t remember a single slagging thing about- waved and headed straight for him.

“Got your letter,” Getaway said as he drew nearer.

Skids couldn’t move and his spark was about to pound its way right out of his chest. Why had he ever written all that? ‘I don’t remember you, but I think I love you.’ What the slag had he been thinking? No, he knew that. He’d been hoping Getaway felt the same, but the ‘thank you for everything’ note he’d gotten rather demolished that notion. Oh, it was a sweet and sparkfelt letter, but gratitude was a long frelling way from love and desire, and search though he had, Skids hadn’t been able to find Bob again to get his info chip back.

“You look like you’re about to glitch,” Getaway said, then _bomped_ Skids. “Here. Let me really help the crash along.” He laughed, mask retracting to show a smile Skids couldn’t recall ever having seen before. Then that smile closed over his own mouth, his knees buckled, and Skids’ mind went utterly blank.

“Wow. I was kidding about the crash.” Skids laid in Getaway’s arms, both of them sitting on the floor of the hall. Skids couldn’t remember getting there and it looked like he’d lost nearly forty seconds of time. “You ok?”

“I got your note.” _Primus, Skids, did you really just say that?_ he thought.

“Yeah? Too over the top? Love ya, but I know you can’t remember.” Getaway tipped his helm, staring at Skids for a minute before he started laughing. “Why do you look so shocked? You said it in your letter.”

Skids pushed himself up so he could turn and face Getaway without being cradled against the mech. “You sent a thank you note. Love? Where the frag in that was I supposed to get love from in _that_?”

“Whoa, hold up.” Getaway held out his hand. “You got it with you?”

Skids handed over the info chip, then looked away. He should have just kept his stupid feelings to himself. Given it more time. Anything but writing that letter he gave Bob to deliver.

After a moment or two Getaway started laughing. “This isn’t my letter to you.” He gave Skids back the chip, then hooked a hand around the back of the blue mech’s neck and pulled him in close. “I wrote this long old thing about how long we were together and how not being able to say how much I cared was killing me.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah.” Getaway snickered. “So. Wanna come back to my place?” he asked, lips brushing Skids’ before pressing in for another kiss.


End file.
